The Road Trip
by blvdgirl
Summary: On a field trip, Cassandra Frasier and John O'Neill meet someone from SG1's past. Together they must embark on the ultimate road trip with the fate of the galaxy hanging in the balance.
1. Prologue

Season 7, Early

Author's Note: This bit previously posted as "The New Kid" at Gateworld

Disclaimer: I only own the stories, folks.

PROLOGUE

It was a slow Thursday afternoon at Sal's Diner. In addition to Lenny, the short-order cook, and Kate, the waitress, there were only Tony, the regular, drinking his coffee at the counter and a teenaged girl sitting in the corner booth. The girl was nursing a chocolate milkshake with extra whipped cream and sprinkles. Had anyone given her much thought, they might have concluded that she lacked much of the trepidation of her age–she looked serene and composed as she waited. The remains of the afternoon sun glimmered off of her copper hair as she sat rapping her soft fingertips on the red, formica tabletop patiently.

Well, mostly patiently, Cassandra thought contemplating her fingers. After all, she had been waiting for over forty minutes. Her milkshake was more than half gone and she had been drinking it very, very slowly, trying to pace herself. She was contemplating ordering when the bells on the door jangled announcing someone's entrance. She looked up expectantly, not able to hide her smile when she saw that it was in fact him.

His deep eyes scanned the diner. Finding her, his face lit up into a genuine, though weary, smile. He walked towards her as she eagerly climbed out of the booth and into his embrace. Hugging him was like swimming in hot chocolate. "Hi Jack!" She said with glee.

"Hey, Cassandra," he responded, concealing his amusement at her warmth. "Glad you waited."

"Well," she began sliding back into the booth, "It hasn't been a hour yet."

Jack nodded. The two had set a statute of limitations early in their relationship–one hour was the get out of jail free card. "Would you believe that your mom held me up?"

Cass smiled. "That's not hard to believe. What was it this time?"

Jack narrowed his eyes slightly, "You know that I can't tell you that."

"You could hint," Cass replied as she mischievously raised her eyebrows.

"Ok," Jack conceded, "A hint." He lowered his voice conspiratorially. "There were needles involved."

Now it was Cassandra's turn to narrow her eyes, but she didn't reply. Jack saw the smoldering, no less powerful in one so young he decided, and changed the subject. "So, how's school?"A slightly evil grin spread across Cassandra's face at Jack's subject change and her eyes became noticeably brighter, but Jack, distracted by the arrival of the waitress, failed to notice.

"What'll it be?" Kate asked. Jack nodded at Cassie indicating that she should order first.

"A cheeseburger and fries, please."

"Make that two," said Jack. "And, I'd like a cup of coffee." Looking over at Cass' shake, he asked, "Do you need a refill or anything?"

"Nah. I'm good."

"Kay," Kate read back the order, "That's two cheeseburgers, two fries, and a coffee. Coming right up." And she walked away.

"So," Cass began, "School's pretty good."

"Gettin' all sorts of new knowledge there, are ya?"

"You could say that." She paused and the small grin came back. "There's a new kid in my chemistry class."

Kate arrived with Jack's coffee and he took an appreciative swallow. "Hmmm?" he asked.

"I said that there's a new kid in my chemistry class, a sophomore, but apparently he's advanced."

"Oh?" Jack responded failing to feign much interest.

"Yes." Cassandra's eyes were fully on Jack's face. If he reacted in any way, she would notice. She continued, "The funny thing is that he sort of reminds me of you."

At this simple statement, Jack suddenly looked very alert. "Oh?"

"Yeah. His name is John O'neill, two Ls, and he's a transfer student from Minnesota." Cassandra looked as smug as a cat playing with a mouse. "Odd coincidence, huh?"

"Yes, odd," Jack answered looking slightly uncomfortable. "You said that this boy is in your chemistry class." He took another swallow of coffee.

"Uh-huh," Cass nodded. "And," she added, pausing for effect, "I'm his Algebra tutor."

At hearing this, the coffee in Jack's mouth came back out again, "You're his what?"

"His algebra tutor, for Algebra II," Cass tried not to laugh at Jack's not-so-covert reaction. "Not that he's stupid or anything. It's just that he needs a little extra help to sort of catch up or brush up, rather." She looked at Jack expectantly.

Jack was sitting back in the booth with a puzzled expression on his face. Cass had him cornered, she could tell, and he couldn't think of anyway to get out of it. As much as she had her suspicions about the identity of this new kid, she'd never actually voice them aloud, but she was having a little too much fun to drop the topic just yet. "And," she continued, "you know how there's that big dance coming up?"

Jack interrupted; he couldn't help it. "You are not to go with that boy to a dance. Is that understood."

She couldn't hide the humor from her eyes, "Jack, I wasn't going to say that I was going with him." And she smiled coyly at him knowing full well that she had been leading the conversation in that direction. "I'm going with Dominic–he asked me weeks ago."

Jack looked at Cass in confused expectation. She continued, "No. John asked me if I could introduce him to my friend Theresa. He asked her to the dance."

"Oh." Jack said looking a little consoled. Then, curious. "Theresa, huh?"

"Yeah. She's in our Chem class too. She's my age, tall, blonde, athletic, smart–actually she sort of reminds me of..."

Kate was back with the burgers. "Oh, look! Our food," Jack shifted enthusiastically.

Cass smiled at Jack's diversionary tactics and settled for, "She's a cool girl."

"Well," Jack said biting his burger, "Let's just hope that she's also a cautious girl." Then added at Cass's questioning look, "After all, boys his age aren't always...they can't always be... they're not...a boy in his place could..."

"Honestly, Jack," Cassie came to aid, "I think that he's pretty trustworthy. I'm sure that you'd think so too if you met him. Like I said before, he reminds me of you." Cass began eating her burger.

"Well, you never know," Jack added though he was enjoying her sideways compliment. "After all, high school girls could seem like easy pickings to a guy...from out of town," he concluded. Cass smiled–out of town–that reminded her of a similar cover story.

"So," he couldn't help himself, "Anything else I should know about this new kid?"

"Well," Cass answered, "He made the varsity hockey team. That's pretty unusual for a sophomore."

"Really?" Jack smirked, "Varsity hockey?"

Cass smiled. "Yeah, varsity hockey." Then, sarcastically in response to the gleaming in his eyes, "Gold stars all around." The look on Jack's face was so amusing, but her game had been played by this point–she had learned what she'd wanted to know and was satisfied that her guess had been right... "So, what movie do you want to go see?"


	2. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: If only I owned Stargate...

CHAPTER 1

Cassandra didn't know what woke her. The night seemed quiet. Theresa, snuggled down in the sleeping bag next to her, was still asleep. There were no strange shadows to indicate any sort of movement near their tent. All appeared to be well and normal, but Cass felt a tingling sensation in her stomach that warned her that something just wasn't quite right. She looked at her watch, 4:15 am MST.

Taking care not to wake Theresa up, Cassandra carefully climbed out of her sleeping bag and pulled on her shoes and socks, thankful that she hadn't gotten undressed when she'd finally gone to sleep only a few hours before. Slowly, she unzipped the tent flap and crawled out into the soft gypsum sand that made up White Sands National Park, New Mexico, USA.

Turning on her heel, she studied her surroundings. Six dome tents clustered together as they had been set up the evening before by the Colorado Springs' Department of Parks and Recreation's Youth Astronomy Club. The back-country campground was cluttered and disheveled–there could be no doubt that teenagers were occupying it–but nothing that she saw could account for Cassie's present state of unrest.

She looked up. The stars had moved in the hours since the park's astronomy presentation the night before, but the constellations were still friendly and familiar. That wasn't always so, she thought dolefully to herself. Only six years ago the stars of Earth had been new and scary. She shivered. This is stupid–I'm being stupid, she thought to herself, everything is fine.

That was when she heard it–a very low roaring in her ears. Looking up again, she saw something fly low across the sky above their campsite. Then, she heard the thump of something hitting the sand in the distance beyond her view. Without thinking about it, Cassie began to run towards the object, her mind racing wildly. She had no idea what she'd just seen but her intuition had taken over–she had to get to it as quickly as possible.

John couldn't sleep. Lucas, his tent-mate, snored. In his former life, he had spent many nights sleeping in tents besides a wide assortment of miscellaneous snorers without difficulty, but, in his new life, he'd grown unaccustomed to it. My gosh Jack, he thought to himself in frustration, being a civilian has turned you soft. Then, he heard a distinct rustling. Someone in the camp was up and moving about. He looked at his watch, 0416–for crying out loud, who would be up this early? And, with practiced stealth, he crawled out of his sleeping bag, thankful that he'd slept in his clothes. He pulled on his shoes and socks and grabbed his jacket. Then, he unzipped the tent flap.

He saw Cassandra shimmy out of the tent that she was sharing with Theresa, feet first. With sixteen-year-old male anticipation, he continued to watch the tent opening, thinking that Theresa might follow her tent mate out in a similar fashion. However, she did not, and John returned his attention to Cassandra. With a trained eye, he made a quick assessment. She was standing alert and tense, surveying the area around their camp with care. She's scared or nervous about something, he realized, as she studied the late night sky and shivered. And, he thought practically, she's not wearing her coat.

Then, just as her shoulders seemed to relax and her fears abate, he heard a subtle growling sound fill the night air. Cass heard it too and glanced back at the sky a second time, her eyes bright and wild. John couldn't see whatever it was that she had, but her look was enough. He fell out of his tent and began to follow her when she took off after it.

They ran and ran. They must have gone over a half a mile at a full run before Cassie slowed down, panting. John didn't know if she'd even realized that he was with her, but she must have because as she slowed to a walk she looked over her shoulder and said, "I don't know what it was exactly, but it landed right over the next dune."

"Over the next dune?" he asked surprised. How could she know exactly where it hit? She couldn't possibly have seen it.

His doubts must have shown in his face because she just bit her lower lip and nodded sheepishly.

"Was it a meteor?" he queried.

She shook her head and swallowed hard. "No. It was dark, opaque–not burning like a meteor would be. And..." she paused, a funny look on her face

"And?" he prompted.

"And, it just felt different than I think a meteor would feel. I felt different. I felt weird... I felt it even before..." Cassandra trailed off and looked at him, her eyes wide and pleading. She thinks that I'll think she's crazy, John realized. She's frightened that I won't believe her.

But, he did believe her. He trusted Cass' intuition–it had never been faulty in the past. After all, she did have naquadah in her blood, Ner'ti influenced genes, and alien instincts. If she felt that something was weird, then something must be weird indeed. He smiled, "I believe you, Cass. Not a meteor." He straightened his shoulders and offered her his extended hand, "Let's go check it out."

Cassandra didn't hesitate to take John's hand, and, as she did so, she felt most of her fear disappear. She'd only known the teenaged "John" for a month, but she'd known the adult "Jack" for six years. And, if there was anyone on the planet that she felt she could trust in this sort of situation, this was the guy.

As they started climbing the dune together, she suddenly realized that she needed to tell him that she knew. It felt like lying not telling him. And, if what they were about to see was at all like she was expecting, he would need to know that he didn't have to pretend with her. "John, wait a second," she said stopping and pulling on his hand. He looked at her, his eyes questioning. "I just wanted you to know that I know who you are."

"Oh?" he responded hesitantly.

"Yeah. I guessed pretty much as soon as I met you, and then I asked a friend to sort of confirm it for me." She shrugged her shoulders.

John seemed to accept her answer. "Your mom?"

Cassandra laughed. "Yeah, right... No, actually, I found out from you."

John's forehead creased in confusion, "From me?"

Cass smiled inside. So that's where those lines come from, she thought. "The older, other you... Well, to be truthful, you didn't confirm anything directly. But, you were pretty pleased that you'd made the hockey team."

John's smile surprised her. "Yeah, well, I imagine that would have made me, I mean Jack, happy. We didn't quite make it the first time around." He paused, the grin leaving his face. "It hasn't been easy, you know... Making the adjustment to life like this..." He trailed off.

Cassie's understanding shone from her face, "No, I don't imagine that it has." She looked up the dune, "I just wanted to tell you before, well, before this." She indicated the dune with a nod, "Because I think I'm going to need you to be _you_ for this."

Jack nodded his understanding, squeezed her hand, and proceeded to lead them up the dune.


	3. Chapter 2

Disclaimer- Stargate belongs to others and only my little fic fancies belong to me.

CHAPTER 2

Well, this is just super, John thought sarcastically looking down the far side of the dune. One fat, juicy Go'auld escape pod laying on the white sands of the middle of nowhere New Mexico. No doubt about it, unfortunately. It's occupant was lying face down in the gypsum approximately ten feet from it. He was humanoid. John looked at Cassandra standing by his side on the dune, "Is he a Go'auld?"

Cass's face was pale, but she just shrugged her shoulders and answered, "I can't tell from here. The pod must have some naquadah in it. I'll have to get closer."

"Well, that's sounds like a bad plan." John said.

"It may be a bad plan, but the only way I'm going to be able to tell if he's a snakehead is if I can get closer." Cassandra replied.

John smiled at her use of his term for the Go'auld."Fine, but we don't have any weapons. We'll have to be careful."

Letting go of Cassandra's hand, John slowly made his way down the dune with her following behind him. They approached the man cautiously. John nudged him gently with his foot. Nothing. He kicked the figure again, this time a little harder, but the figure showed no response. John nodded back at Cassie who came and knelt beside the man. She put her left hand on his shoulder. Sighing in relief she looked up at John, "He's not a Go'auld."

John was about to respond that it couldn't be a Tok'ra then either, when the figure lunged up grabbing Cass by the throat. At that moment the pre-dawn light filtering from the east over the mountains illuminated the man's face; it was Aris Boch. He looked terrible–beaten and seriously wounded by the looks of things. And, there was a crazy look in his eyes as he studied John's face. The bounty hunter looked lost and disoriented.

He climbed to his feet, lifting Cassandra up off of the ground. She was gasping for air and kicking her legs. John knew that he had to help her fast, but, even injured, he knew that he couldn't physically take down Aris Boch, not at sixteen. He'd have to talk their way out of this.

"Aris," John began trying to keep his voice calm. The alien looked at him surprised. "Yeah," John continued, "I know that your name is Aris Boch and that you're a bounty hunter."

"Where am I?" Boch demanded, his voice deep and harsh.

"You're on earth. New Mexico to be more specific." John answered.

"Who are you?"

"Well, that's a more complicated question," John replied, still maintaining his demeanor, "And I'll answer it only after you let my friend go"

Aris looked confused, "Your friend?" He searched the area around the teenaged boy with his eyes.

"Yes. The girl you're choking to death." John pointed to Cass where she dangled from Aris' fist.

Aris looked at his right hand and seemed surprised to see Cassandra flailing there. Immediately, he let go, and she fell heavily to the ground by his feet gasping for air and coughing.

John didn't move towards her, but kept his eyes on the clearly unstable bounty hunter. His concern, however, was clear in his voice, "Cassandra, are you ok?"

He heard her clear her throat. "I think so," she coughed out.

Aris Boch looked carefully at John and asked again, "Who are you?"

"I'm John O'neill–close relative of one Colonel Jack O'neill with whom you're acquianted." John answered succinctly, hoping that this answer would suffice. He didn't think that Aris would really fall for the whole clone thing. But, apparently, John needn't have worried, for as the last words of his answer left his lips, Aris Boch passed out.

Cassandra rolled out of the way just in time, as the alien hit the sand hard where she had been lying. John immediately helped her up and started scanning her for damage. The fear in his eyes reminded her of her mother. "Oh please!" she started in exasperation, her voice raspy, "I'm fine... I'm gonna be fine, anyway. I bet I'll have some nasty bruises and it sort of hurts to talk, but I'll live. So, you can just stop looking at me like that."

Chastised, Jack looked at the bounty hunter. Cassandra followed his gaze, "Who is he?"

"His name is Aris Boch. He's a bounty hunter."

"A bounty hunter?"

"Yeah. A pretty good one too. He captured us once. SG-1, I mean. He was going to sell us to Sokar. But, he didn't. He let us go."

"So, is he a good guy?"

"Let's just say he has good guy potential. Go check the pod–let's see if he brought anything with him."

Cassandra wrinkled her forehead and arched her eyebrows slightly, John had just given her a command without even realizing it. His tone and his bearing had changed–he was acting every inch an Air Force Colonel. For a moment, she considered mentioning this change, teasing him or something, but she quickly decided against it. She needed John to be Jack right now; she'd even told him so. There was no going back now.

The pod definitely had naquadah in it–she felt queasy as soon as she got near it. However, a quick survey of the inside revealed some treasures: a bag and a zat gun. Inside the bag, Cassie found some vials filled with a blue liquid and a canteen of water. She brought them to John. He quickly took the zat from her and, then, he opened one of the blue vials, mixed its contents into the canteen, and poured some of the water into the bounty hunter's mouth.

Cass looked at John questioningly, but he just shrugged and said, "It's a drug–he's addicted to it... I think that he needs it to survive."

Oh, thought Cassandra, as she eyed John as he examined the pod and thought about their situation. Finally, he turned to her and said, "Cass, I need you to stay here with Aris. I'm going back to the tents to grab a few things. I'll be back as soon as I can. Then, we'll bury the pod and head out."

"Head out?" She asked.

"Oh yeah." He replied wryly. "Very soon this area will be crawling with government types, most likely the NID, and we need to get Aris Boch far from their clutches."

"Why?" Cass queried, "Aren't they the good guys?"

John just shook his head. "Not always."

A/N- I'm not getting much feedback on this story yet (thanks scottiedog), but I am going to go ahead and write a bit more anyway. (I believe in me, the little girl shouted as she stomped her foot and proceeded to the corner for a good pout.)


	4. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Stargate owns me...

CHAPTER 3

_Ring. Ring. _

What time is it, Janet thought groggily looking at the clock on her beside table as she reached for the phone. Argh, 6:51, and on her day off... She answered brusquely, "Janet Frasier," then listened to the voice on the other end of the line, her sleepy demeanor quickly replaced with one of alert panic. "I see." Pause, more listening. "No, I understand." Pause, "Hmmm." More listening, "Yes, please do. And use my cell phone number." Click. She returned the receiver to its cradle, and let out one deep, terrified sigh. Her daughter was missing. She picked up the phone again and made a call.

SG1

Jack checked his watch again. Yikes, he was running a little bit late this morning. However, he hadn't expected a call telling him to be in the briefing room at 0730. After all, SG-1 was on standby for a couple of days so that Carter could examine her whatsit that they'd picked up on P2X-... Well, on that one planet. When he walked into the briefing room, the rest of his team was already assembled and seated at the table with General Hammond and Dr. Frasier. He was about to greet them with a raucous, "Good morning campers!" when he saw Carter discretely shake her head at him. Ah, maybe a simple, "Morning," would be more appropriate, so he gave it.

"Thanks for joining us, Jack," Hammond stated cooly. Oh yeah, tough crowd today thought Jack, taking a seat. Hammond continued, "Dr. Frasier received a phone call at 0651 this morning informing her that Cassandra went missing from a field trip that she was on down in New Mexico."

Every one in the briefing room visibly tensed. After all, Cassandra was their child, their girl. Janet wasn't the only one to feel a sense of terror. Every face in the briefing room was clouded with tension and fear. And, it could be anyone, Jack realized, the NID, the trust–there were many organizations out their legitimate or other that would love to examine the innards of one Cassandra Frasier more closely. Swallowing his emotions he asked, "What do we know?"

SG1

Agent Barrett surveyed the men around him as they scuttled about like ants on the sands of New Mexico. They had uncovered a Go'auld escape pod that had been buried along side a dune. It was cleverly done actually; no one would have found it if they hadn't been looking for it. Thank God for satelite images and GPS. However, the discovery of the pod had only posed more questions. For instance, where was its passenger?

As soon as a team was in position, the NID had closed off the Park and all traffic around it, but what if it wasn't enough. What if there was a Go'auld wandering around loose on earth? Barrett shuddered.

As he stood, hands on hips, surveying his team, one of his assistants approached him tentatively. "Sir?"

"Yes, Parsons?"

"Um," the younger man cleared his throat. "I've completed my inteviews of everyone that we've been holding in custody on sight and..." Parsons paused to clear his throat again. "And, um, I think that you might want to talk to one of them yourself."

Barrett listened to Parson's bumbling with growing frustration. "Why?" he demanded tersely, not making eye contact with the young man.

"Um," Parsons was fiddling with his clipboard, "Because two teenagers on an astronomy trip from Colorado Springs are missing."

"Really?" Barrett asked, suddenly giving his full attention to his sheepish junior assistant. "Did you get names?"

"Yes, sir."

"And they are..."

Parsons shrugged his shoulders and gritted his teeth, "They're, um, Cassandra Frasier and, um...Johnathan O'neill."

Barrett was amazed by this unexpected news, but his face revealed nothing. "Has the SGC been informed?"

"Yes, sir. The chaperone, um," Parsons referenced his clipboard. "Mr. Snow, called Dr. Frasier this morning as soon as they were discovered missing."

"Thank you, Parsons." Barrett nodded. "I think I will go talk with the chaperone."

A Go'auld on the loose and two missing teenagers, one of whom is an alien and the other, well, the other was going to complicate his day a whole heck of a lot, Barrett concluded as he headed for hisJeep.


	5. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

There it stood. Their best hope of undetected escape–Holloman Air Force Base, home of the 49th Wing Fighting Division. All John had to do was to get onto the base, unassumingly head towards the motor pool, and "borrow" their third vehicle of the day. No problem, he thought as he squared his shoulders and proceeded towards the entry gate on foot.

Cassandra had dropped him off about a quarter-mile from the base entrance. She was in a gray Nissan that they had lifted from a discount-store parking lot. They had left White Sands in a park Jeep, but John knew that it would be reported stolen as soon as the sun came up. So, they'd driven nearly 40 minutes to the Alamogordo Walmart, arriving just before 6 am, and watched an employee arrive at work for the day. Then, they took her car. The plan was for Cassandra to return the second car back to the store lot while John got another one. Then, she was supposed to hide the jeep. If the plan worked, they'd leave no trail for the NID to follow.

Unfortunately, the plan did require that they separate, something that John was very unwilling to do. Aris had only awoken once since they'd had dragged him into the jeep, but John was still worried about what might happen if he woke again while alone with Cassie. Still, it couldn't be helped. They needed a car that wouldn't be reported stolen, and an air force base full of airmen overseas was the perfect place to look.

He carefully approached the gate. There were two SFs on duty, but they were both huddled in the security booth, sheilded against the cold of the desert night. It looked like they were playing cards. John had a military ID. Hypothetically, he could walk up to them, flash it, and give some story about sneaking out without his father's permission. His ID was legit enough, and they were young enough to remember doing their own sneaking out–they'd let him in. But, they'd also remember him, and that would be a problem. So, John studied the shadows and prepared for a mission of stealth. No worries, he thought to himself, after all, it's very unlikely that I'd be shot.

SG1

Cassandra parked the Nissan in the store parking lot. She couldn't be sure, but she thought that it was even in the same space. The sun was full up now, and with it people were emerging out to begin their days.

All she had to do, she did an internal eye-roll at the 'all' bit, was to somehow get Aris out of the car without drawing any attention to them. The easiest thing to do, of course, would be to wake him up, but John had been insistent that she not try. What's he going to do? She wondered defiantly, but remembering her earlier brush with suffocation, she didn't actually attempt it.

Both the park Jeep and the Nissan had been opened with spare keys they'd found hidden on the vehicles, thank goodness. Cass didn't know what she'd have done if they'd had to hot-wire them. She imagined, of course, that John would know how, but she hadn't a clue.

So, taking the keys, Cassandra left Aris stretched across the back seat of the Nissan. She moved the Jeep into the space along side of it, opening the doors to create something of a tunnel. She tucked the zat that John had left with her inside of her jeans' waistband. Then, as carefully as possible, she grabbed Aris by the ankles and tried to pull him from one car to the other. She realized that it was a pretty stupid idea at the very moment that the bounty hunter slipped from her hands, only to wake up when cracking his head against the pavement.

His eyes went wide and wild with confusion, glancing from her to the two vehicles. With surprise, she occured to her as very unlikely that he'd ever seen a car before. Though starting to bleed, his reflexes were still sharp. With cat-like grace, he leaped to his feet, grabbed her by the shoulder, and tossed her inside the Nissan. She fumbled to pull the zat from her waist and was more than a little terrified when he deftly took it from her.

He loomed over her, his eyes unreadable, but, instead of shooting her as she expected, he asked, "How's your throat?"

A/N- Sorry, short chapter. Busy, busy week. I will update with a longer chapter this weekend (cross fingers and hold breath.) Oh, and thank you so much to those of you who've taken the time to review-- this pathetic attempt at an update is specifically for you all.


	6. Chapter 5

Disclaimer- It seems sort of silly to add a disclaimer as I would assume that you'd know that I don't own Stargate, but, just to be safe and for the record... I don't.

CHAPTER 5

Cassandra's bewilderment must have shown on her face. There she was lying prone across the backseat of a stolen car in the middle of a Walmart parking lot while a bleeding and very likely irate bounty hunter stood pointing a zat gun at her, and he wanted to know if her throat was ok. Unable to think of any sort of response, she just nodded her head.

Aris Boch was surveying the area around them as well as he could. At the moment, there was very little pedestrian traffic, but there were cars moving by on the highway. He looked back at Cass, his confusion evident, "What place is this?"

Sensing a little discomfort behind his self-assured tone, Cassie found herself feeling sympathetic towards the galactic traveler. "You're on earth, in a town called Alamogordo."

"This is earth?" His eyes widening in comprehension. "I've never seen any place like this."

"Well, the go'auld haven't been her in thousands and thousands of years, so the people here have thrived and advanced on their own." She bit her lip. It was funny talking to someone from another planet again (Jonas had been gone for almost two months). Even though she'd lived on earth since she was ten, and, it felt like her home in most ways, she would occasionally experience pangs of differentness, a disconcerting sense of not belonging. Looking at Aris' face as he viewed her adopted planet for the first time reminded her of just how alien they both were. "My name's Cassandra, Cassandra Frasier. I'm originally from the planet Hanka."

The bounty hunter looked a little surprised at this. "It was my understanding that all of the citizens of that planet had been killed by Ner'ti."

Cassandra smiled sadly as she responded, "All but me."

Aris eyes apprised her carefully, apparently she passed his test because he nodded as if at an internal thought and asked, "Cassandra Frasier of Hanka and of earth, I must contact the Asgard."

SG1

Well, he'd been right–he hadn't been shot at–but that was the only thing going well for John O'Neill at the moment.

It had been foolish, he conceded, to attempt to break into the base commander's office to use the secure phone. But, when he had walked by the imposing office structure on his way to the motor pool, it had seemed perfectly logical. Almost brilliant, maybe. After all, he could drop a line to Hammond and get Boch, Cassandra, and himself all beamed up aboard the Prometheus in no time–sounded like an excellent alternative to stealing a car, driving to CO Springs, and somehow avoiding the NID with a wounded alien bounty hunter in tow.

Unfortunately, a SF had just happened to walk down that particular hallway as he'd applied the sturdy sole of his sneaker to the door. Youth has its advantages, the door opened just as he'd planned, but the witness with the gun was definitely a disadvantage. So, John sat locked inside a gray room, while some official men on the opposite end of video camera were trying to decide what to do with him.

He'd requested a meeting with the base commander. He'd requested that they call General Hammond. He'd requested that they contact Colonel Jack O'Neill. Then, his impatience growing exponentially, he'd requested that they contact any person within a thousand mile radius with half a brain. They'd left him alone after that (though, it may have been that chair that he threw against the wall in frustration, hmmm); one diplomatic young lieutenant had encouraged him while exiting that he might want to show a little more respect to the military institution least he get his parents into even more trouble because, of course, they believed him to be some punk military-dependent kid. Yeah, good luck finding my parents, he thought cynically.

The room was small, about eight feet by eight feet with three folding chairs, an old wooden table, and a state-of-the-art surveillance camera. He was pacing, and as he paced his frustration increased. They'd left him alone for over half an hour, and he was really starting to worry about how in the heck he'd get himself out of there and back to Cassandra and Aris when someone finally knocked on the door. He turned to face the door thinking, Finally... And was shocked to see Agent Barrett standing there. "What in the hell are you doing here?" He blurted unceremoniously, disappointment and anger obvious on his face.

Agent Barrett surveyed the boy before him with hidden surprise. He'd read the file, of course, and knew that the 'kid' he was addressing had all of the knowledge and experience of a highly decorated military officer with, let's face it, a bit of an attitude problem, but he was still shocked by the blatant reality of it staring at him from decidedly familiar and fuming brown eyes. However, Barrett's face was a professional mask, "Jonathan O'Neill," he began as he pulled out a chair and sat at the table, placing a manilla folder upon it. "You may as well sit," he continued, "We've got a lot to talk about."

A/N- No disrespect intended towards militaty-dependent kids. I was one myself. :)


	7. Chapter 6

_A/N- I didn't receive any feedback on the last chapter which was very discouraging. Please read and review. _

CHAPTER 6

A newly made-over Aris Boch sat across from Cassandra Frasier in the Alamogordo McDonald's. Cass was surprised at how ordinary the imposing bounty hunter seemed in his blue jeans and sweatshirt as he sniffed at his Big Breakfast suspiciously. Internally, she thanked John for the wad of cash that he'd insisted she shove into her blue jeans' pocket. Shopping for the clothing in Walmart had grounded her back in her reality and had given her a sense of control.

"It's good," she tried to reassure him, her own mouth overflowing with a breakfast sandwich, but he still looked unconvinced. He took a tentative bite of the biscuit.

"So, your friend, the younger O'Neill, is supposed to meet us here with new transportation?" Cass had been surprised by how readily Aris had accepted the idea that John was a mini Jack O'Neill, so to speak, but then she figured that he must encounter weird stuff all of the time in his travels throughout the galaxy.

Cassie checked her watch nervously. John had told her that he'd meet them over half an hour ago, but she figured that she'd give him their usual hour before she began to panic. "Yeah, this is where he said he'd come, but he's running a little late."

"How late?"

She checked her watch again, "Thirty-seven minutes." She had tried to sound nonchalant, but was apparently unsuccessful because her breakfast companion wrinkled his brow.

Aris took a swallow of his coffee before questioning, "And if he doesn't arrive?"

Cassandra replied, "Then we go to Plan B."

"And just what is Plan B?"

She shrugged her shoulders, "Beats me–guess we'll just have to cross that bridge when we come to it." Yikes, had she just said that out loud? That was so Jack's fault... " So, why do you need to see the Asgard?"

Aris looked around the fast food restaurant with trepidation. There were only a few other people scattered throughout it, all of them basking in a saturated-fat induced stupor. "Is this a secure area?"

Cass smiled as she replied, "Trust me. No one in here would understand, much less take seriously, anything that's about to come out of your mouth. It's a McDonald's–a haven for deadbeats with low dietary standards. Besides, this is earth. Only a handful of people on this planet know about the Stargate, the Go'auld, or the Asgard. I think that we're pretty safe."

He paused as he gave the room another brief scan inspection with his eyes. "Very well. Have you ever heard of the planet Culliah?"

SG1

John was pacing the room again in agitation. Agent Barrett had been interrogating him for over an hour with no success. John had denied knowing anything about a Go'auld escape pod and claimed to have no knowledge of the whereabouts of Cassandra Frasier. He asserted that it was simply an amazing coincidence that they'd both disappeared from the same field trip at the same time and had readily volunteered to assist in a search operation provided that Agent Barrett get him the hell out of the room.

Malcolm Barrett surveyed John O'Neill with exasperation. "Why won't you let me help you? Why don't you tell me the truth?"

Surprised by Barrett's tone, John stopped pacing. "Why don't you let me out of here and I'll think about it?"

In a moment of honesty, Barrett admitted quietly, "You know I can't do that. My orders are to keep you here until one of my superiors arrive."

"At which time, I will be taken into NID custody? Damn. Just following orders..." John's voice was bitter. He sat down and stared at Agent Barrett with so much understanding in his eyes that they were disconcerting to see in so young a face.

Barrett cleared his throat and opened his mouth to apologize, but John just held up his hand wearily and preemptively waved the words away. Nodding, Barrett slowly rose to his feet and left the room.

SG1

"Sirs!" Carter entered the briefing room like an electrical spike, her cell phone in her hand.

Both Hammond and O'Neill looked up from the conversation that they were having over some charts spread across the briefing table. Janet, who'd also been sitting at the table, rose to her feet, hope lighting up her features at the possibility of any kind of news. Sam, seeing the expression on her friend's face, nodded to her encouragingly.

"I just received a call from Agent Barrett. The NID is holding John O'Neill at Holloman."


	8. Chapter 7

_A/N- Sorry about the long wait. I was working on grad school application. Plus, I hadn't actually intended for John to get caught, it just sort of happened, so it took me a while to figure out where to go from there. Hope you enjoy the chapter. Please read and review. _

_---------_

CHAPTER 7

Cassandra had always preferred the visual to the performing arts, but she knew that this was one performance that she would have to play to perfection. Just take a deep breath, she thought to herself, you can do this. Just go slow. Somewhere behind her Aris was already moving into position for his part in the plan, but the only way that he'd be successful was if she got a move on.

The two SFs manning the southeast security station stared in horror and amazement as the figure of a teenaged girl limped into their line of sight. Her long copper hair was disheveled, her tank top and jeans were torn and dirty, and she was barefoot. Her right arm hung limply against her side, one shoe dangled from it. Her left arm was wrapped across her chest with her hand grasping a very real gash on her upper-right arm. (Real, but shallow—she'd insisted that Aris inflict the wound with a plastic breakfast knife.) She shuffled awkwardly and slowly down the road as if dazed, her lips murmuring prayers that this ruse would work. One step. Pause. Another. Deep breath. Shoulder sob. Step. Almost across the wide driveway. Now.

Cassandra crumpled into a heap on the asphalt. The SFs immediately leapt into action. One of them exited the booth and sprinted towards her. The second was picking up his phone, eyes locked on his companion and the girl. He failed to notice the broad-shouldered main silently approaching from his left, and he didn't recognize the ominous sound of the zat preparing to fire.

The first SF made it to Cassandra unaware that his partner had just been rendered unconscious by an alien energy weapon. Gently, he placed his hand on her arm and shook lightly, "Honey? Are you ok?" When she didn't respond, the young man carefully attempted to assess her vitals. After holding his fingers at her throat for a moment, he turned to yell to his comrade that her pulse was fast and erratic when he too was zatted by the bounty hunter who had crept up behind him.

Upon hearing the discharge of the weapon, Cass sat up and shook her head. "Poor guy," she whispered as she rose to her feet. Then, she looked at Aris and pulled her hair back from her face. "Ok, let's do this."

SG1

Agent Gretchen Simpson could hardly suppress her delight as she peered into the security room monitor. The cloned Jonathan O'Neill was sitting right there, as clear as day, and, for the moment, there was no bureaucratic red-tape keeping her from him. The only reason why he was still sitting in that interrogation room instead of sedated and on his way to a lab was because Agent Barrett believed that he could get the boy to give them Cassandra Frasier as well. After all, the girl was still at large, and Agent Simpson didn't want her to slip through their grasp.

As the Director of the NID's Biological Intelligence Division, Simpson had been attempting to get her hands on Ms. Frasier's DNA for years, always to be stone-walled by the SGC and the President. The landing of a go'auld escape pod in such close proximity to the two children was just the opening that she needed. Currently, this was the NID's jurisdiction, and, before anyone could challenge that, both of the teens would be safely hidden within the folds of the NID and the mysteries of their make-up under her microscope. Finally, she would have the alien and the clone right where she wanted them.

SG1

John slouched in his chair, facing the door. Agent Barrett was back in the room and asking questions again. So far, John had been unresponsive. There was no way in hell that he was going to answer any of Barrett's questions. His right arm was draped across the top of the table, his body posture indicating nothing of what might be going on inside of his head.

Agent Barrett, on the other hand, was sitting sharp and tense. His pencil tapping on the table top in frustration. "I'll ask you one more time," Agent Barrett began, "What was in the pod?" _Tap, tap, tap... I've contacted the SGC. They know that you're in custody. I've contacted the SGC. They know that you're in custody. I've contacted... _Barrett's pencil tapped furiously.

Suddenly, John realized what Barrett was doing. He straightened up, glanced at Barrett, and lifted an eyebrow as he asked, "Do you think I could get a yo-yo?" He rapped his fingers lightly on the tabletop. _Why?_

Barrett's pencil paused. "I suggest that you answer the questions that I ask you, Mr. O'Neill, for everyone's sake. Where is Cassandra Frasier?" His pencil began moving again. _There is an agent here to take you into custody. She's interested in your DNA and Cassandra's. I contacted the SGC to... _The pencil stopped again, but this time because of a commotion in the hallway outside the door.

Both men rose to their feet as they heard several loud thumping noisesThen, they heard the click of the lock, and the door opened.A figure entered the room, holding a zat gun, ready to shoot. Both men gasped as they recognized Cassandra Frasier.

Seeing John, Cass smiled brightly. "John."

"Cass," he replied. His voice betraying his surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"Getting you out." She grinned "So, are you ready to go?"

"Um, sure. Have you got a plan?"

She tossed him the zat. "Plan B, already in action." She glanced over her shoulder back into the hallway.

John took the zat and aimed it at Agent Barrett. "Malcolm," his voice was broad and magnanimous, "I know where Cassandra is." He shrugged his shoulders, knowing that this couldn't be helped, "Sorry," and, he unceremoniously zatted their only NID ally.

He joined Cass in the doorway, and stared in surprise at the number of unconscious bodies spread down the hall. "So, where's our friend?"

"Holding the door open if we leave now."

"Sweet." And he fell into step beside her as she led them out of the building.


	9. Chapter 8

A/N—It has literally been months since my last update on this story. I'm so sorry about that. I guess I won't blame you if you give it up entirely, but I hope that you'll choose to read on. I was a bit blocked, so I started some other stories, and well… Thank you if you do decide to read, and please review.

THE ROAD TRIP: CHAPTER 8

Agent Gretchen Simpson stood leaning on one side of the table and Jack O'Neill stood on the other, their glares fierce and their postures predatorial. To Agent Simpson's left, Malcolm Barrett stood looking slightly sheepish and uncomfortable. The team flanking Jack, on the other hand, looked completely unified, especially in their indignation at the comment just made by the Director of the NID's Biological Intelligence Division, mainly that the safety and status of one Cassandra Frasier was no longer their concern.

"Come again," Jack's voice was dangerously steady.

Agent Simpson smiled, but it was a smile with absolutely no warmth in it. "Colonel O'Neill, this investigation, including any and all information regarding the current whereabouts of Miss Cassandra Frasier, is not under SGC jurisdiction. It is under mine. And, while I certainly appreciate General Hammond's generosity in sending his flagship field unit all the way down here to offer their full assistance and cooperation," she continued, her tone ironic, "I'm afraid that I'm going to have to decline. You may not know this, but SG-1 has quite a reputation at the NID. And, as you may imagine based on the history there that it is not a complementary one."

Jack was about to respond, his anger palpable, but Daniel put his hand on his friend's shoulder to stop him. Daniel addressed Agent Simpson instead in his classic diplomatic style,"Obviously, we don't want to interfere in your investigation. We aren't fools. We don't want a maniacal Go'auld running around out there, and we certainly don't want Cassie to be hurt in anyway. But, as you well know, Cassandra's mother is the chief medical officer at the SGC, and as it is her child who is currently missing, she has requested our presence here."

"And, I say again, your CMO has no jurisdiction here either. It doesn't matter that her alleged _child_ is missing. Cassandra Frasier now falls under my…" The sound of a phone ringing interrupted her. Jack scowled at both the interruption and at the words he assumed were about to escape this NID dragon's mouth.

Carter removed her phone from her pocket and looked at the caller id. O'Neill glanced in her direction and raised his eyebrow, and she responded with a shake of her head, "I've no idea, sir."

"Answer it," he responded gruffly, turning his eyes back to Simpson who was eying Carter's phone greedily. If the call was from Cassandra or John, as Jack's gut told him it would be, the tension in the room was about to escalate even more. Even now, he could see the wheels turning in that beastly woman's head as she tried to come up with some justification for confiscating the phone or intercepting the call. It was only that small glimmer of defeat in her eyes that let him know that she hadn't thought to tap their phones already—not that he was sure that she could pull that off, but he wouldn't put it past her to try.

Carter answered, "Carter," and then listened for a moment, her face's expression unreadable. Then, she turned her eyes to Jack and said, "It's Mark, sir. Family emergency. Do you mind if I step out to take it?"

"Go." He replied. Then, turned his eyes and his fury back to Simpson. Carter had used the failsafe; his suspicion about the caller was confirmed. That would be his young doppelganger on the phone, and, while Carter spoke to him, Jack O'Neill would have the pleasure of baiting and distracting the beast. "If you're about to suggest that I leave the well-being of my goddaughter and the possible survival of the planet in your oh-so-capable hands, you're sorely mistaken…" Let the diatribe begin.

Daniel and Teal'c observed with well-masked amusement as Jack began to rant. Like Jack, both men had heard the failsafe and knew that while insults were being tossed about inside the room the important work was being done out in the hallway.

SG1

Carter answered, "Carter."

"It's your brother Mark, Carter, and there's been a family emergency. Now get yourself somewhere clear," said the voice of the younger Jack O'Neill.

Sam's heart leapt in her chest—at least she had confirmation that John was alive, of course he could still be compromised, but she knew that if John was alive and well, then he would make it his responsibility to see that Cassandra would be ok. Ignoring everyone else, she repeated his words to her commanding officer, and then, with his permission and understanding, left the interrogation room to take the call. She hoped that Agent Simpson had bought it. Cell phones signals were so easy to trace. When she was in the hallway, she began, "Is she…"

"No questions, Carter," John interrupted shortly. "Payphone to cell phone, you know the drill. All three of us are ok: me and the little time bomb and T's old friend Boba Fett. I know that you're probably worried about snakes, but we haven't seen any. And, speaking of old friends, Carter, we'd love to see my big burly norse buddy when we stop by his old stomping grounds later this evening. It's short notice, I know, but maybe you can get a call in to him, fate of the universe and all that."

"What about transportation?"

"Got it covered. Oh, and Carter?"

"Yes, s… Mark?"

"Good to hear your voice."


End file.
